Deanie Boy
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: After the boys get a call about a possible case from an old friend, Abby Sciuto, they head over to Washington DC to check it out. Then things get hinky when Dean gets arrested at the scene of a crime. Previously 2 fics. SPN/NCIS crossover.


**I first posted this in two different parts, as two different stories, because I had started it and then taken it in another direction but I still liked them both. Just tonight I realized, wow, if I smush a few things around, they actually work together.**

**Summary: After the boys get a call about a possible case from an old friend, Abby Sciuto, they head over to Washington DC to check it out. Then things get hinky when Dean gets arrested at the scene of a crime. SPN/NCIS crossover.**

**Rated: K+**

**Deanie-Boy**

"No Sam, I won't buy it," Dean told him, shaking his head. "As far as lightsaber sword fighting goes, he was the best in the business. Doesn't matter who he went up against. And you put that with the force persuasion _and _the telekinesis, he could definitely hold his own."

"I'm not saying he couldn't hold his own, I'm just saying that Neo would eventually win," Sam shot back. "It's not that Neo would be better at sword fighting or telekinesis, it's the fact that he has so many other abilities as well. The guy can _fly _Dean, not to mention his strength and speed."

"Except that's your problem," Dean said, glancing over to his brother, shifting his grip on the wheel. "Neo has all these abilities _in the Matrix._ What about when he's _out _of the Matrix?"

"What?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"That's it right there. Obi-Wan really trained in all this stuff, he really learned it, he really knows it. Neo just stuck his head into a computer and he learned all this stuff. If he had to go up against Obi-Wan, he wouldn't stand a chance because he doesn't really know it."

"Oh come on, _that's _your argument?" Sam asked in astonishment. "That he isn't a superhero until he's in the Matrix? That wasn't what was agreed on. I chose Neo, _not _Thomas Anderson."

Dean sighed. "Fine. But even in the Matrix—." He stopped as his phone started buzzing with a ringtone. "Hold on," he muttered, digging the phone out of his pocket and flipping it open. "Ya, hello?"

"_Dean Winchester. And how are you on this fine, fine day?_"

Dean narrowed his eyes, sticking his jaw out slightly, and paused. "Oh crap," he muttered, suddenly annoyed, though his grimace was laced with a thin smile. "I can't place it. I can't place the voice. Who is this?"

There was a giggle. "_Oh, thanks so much. I'm glad I earned such a top-notch place in your memory. Granted it has been a while. Come on, Deanie-boy! Guess, guess, guess!_"

Dean barked out a laugh. "Damn, Abby?" he asked in disbelief. "Abby Sciuto? At least I hope it's Abby. Nobody else has ever called me Deanie-boy and I'd like to keep it that way."

"_Ha ha. Very funny. You know you love it_."

"Oh, you caught me. How are you these days?"

"_I'm good. Doing my forensics thing. How are you guys doing?_"

"Good, we're good. Oh!" Dean glanced over to Sam for a second. "Help us out here. Obi-Wan versus Neo from the Matrix."

There was a pause. "_Well, Neo or Tom Anderson_?"

"Neo."

"_Then definitely Neo_."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Crap, Abby!"

Sam let out a grin at the victory.

Abby snorted. "_Sorry. Look, there's a reason I called_."

"Go ahead. What's up?"

"_You knee-deep in a job right now?_"

"No, actually, we're headed toward Georgia," Dean replied. "Why?"

"_Cause I might have something here for you_."

"Really? Spill."

"_I got the first hint this morning when I was brought some evidence. I ran it through a gas chromatograph and I was right. The woman had a sulfuric residue in her mouth_."

"Sulfur?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes curiously.

"_Yea. It was a murder-suicide. The wife killed her husband, then killed herself. We can't find any motive, but as a murder-suicide they've closed the case cause obviously there's nobody to prosecute for a crime_."

"But you're thinking demonic possession?" Dean asked.

"_Yea. You interested?_"

"Well we're _all_ the way in West Virginia, Abs, I don't know," Dean mused.

"_Oh shut up, that is so close!_" Abby told him. "_You got a pen?_"

Dean made a writing motion to Sam, who took out a pad of paper and pen. "Ah, yea, go ahead."

"_Victim's names were Elise and Martin DeFranco, spelled Delta-Echo-Foxtrot-Romeo-Alfa-November-Charlie-Oscar. The husband was a sailor. That's why it got thrown to us._"

Dean repeated the names to Sam. "Alright. We'll stop at a nearby motel and dig up the facts of the case. If it looks promising, we'll head over and I'll give you a call."

"_Thanks, Dean_," Abby replied with a smile.

"No problem. Take care, kiddo."

"_You too._"

Dean hung up the phone. "There was a sign for a Motel 6 at exit 34 a few seconds back, right?"

"I think so, yea."

"'Kay." Dean got into the right lane and paused. "I'd still say that the force persuasion could take Neo out."

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed in annoyance.

00000

_Three days later…_

Abby spun around in her stool in front of the monitor, her eyes closed, clutching the sides of the seat as she went around and around. The hard rock music blasted from the stereo, muffling the _ding _of the elevator bell and the footsteps into the room. When the music was turned down, though, Abby opened her eyes and stopped the stool from spinning, attempting to get up and move toward whomever had just entered the room.

"Hey, what are you—?" Abby stopped in mid-step, holding out her hands to balance herself. "Whoa, okay, just a second."

"I can't talk to you with that music blasting at full-on Abby volume," Tony told her, shifting the box of evidence in his arms. "And what exactly are you doing?"

"Displacing my center of gravity," she said, blinking away the dizziness and waiting for the room to stop spinning before walking slowly over to the metal table. Abby put her hands on it, leaning over the evidence box. "Whatcha got for me?"

"Murder of a sailor and his wife," Tony told her, handing her a pen to sign the chain-of-evidence slip. "Murder weapon was that .35 Smith and Wesson."

Abby blinked and made a small _hm_ sound as she examined the firearm. She took out a few other things before her eyes narrowed on a small plastic bag and she brought it close to her face. "What's this?"

"Oh, yellow stuff Ducky found on the wife's body," he replied. "In her mouth actually."

"Her mouth," Abby murmured almost sadly, staring at it.

"Yea. Not much, but enough. Kinda like she was drooling it. Ducky was worried it would dissolve or something before he got back to autopsy so he took a sample." Tony stared at Abby as she in turn stared at the Q-tip and the yellow powder smudge at the end. "Abby?" He paused. "Earth to Abby…" he said, waving his hand in front of her face.

Abby tore her eyes away from the evidence bag. "Huh?"

Tony blinked. "You were off in la-la land. What, something jump out at you? I'd love to have something to give to Gibbs."

"There was something from a crime scene last week like this," she told him. "The murder-suicide? I think this is sulfur."

"But that wasn't a case," Tony pointed out. "That was, as you just said, a murder-suicide."

Abby sighed. "Yea. But you said this one was a double homicide."

"Yea. We actually caught the guy returning to the scene."

Abby blinked in surprise. "You what?"

"Yup. Denies everything, but we've got him in interrogation with Gibbs."

Abby pursed her lips as she started to go through the things. "Affair gone bad?" Abby asked, taking things out and examining them briefly before putting them aside as her mind went over what she'd just learned. "Returning to the scene's a little weird."

"Yea, I dunno. Guy's a real character though. I need you to run these prints through the system first to check who he is," Tony said, picking up and handing her the envelope he'd put on the table.

"What do you mean?" she asked, taking the envelope and opening it, removing the sheet. "He isn't telling you?"

Tony snorted. "He identified himself as Ted Nugent. And he had two fake IDs that identified him as Dean Hasselhoff and Dean Bentley."

Abby seemed to freeze, then blink, and she looked up to Tony. "What'd you just say?" she asked quietly.

"Yea, I know. Real smartass. Said we've got the wrong guy, we're making a mistake, but it's not the first time I've heard that one." He paused, looking at Abby. "What?"

"Oh God…. Tony…what does this guy look like?" she asked.

"Ah…good looking I guess. Short blond hair. Maybe…thirty, give or take."

Abby put down the evidence she was holding, a look of incredulous despair on her face, causing Tony to narrow his eyes in confusion. "Gibbs is with him now?" Abby asked.

"Yea, talking to him in interrogation." Abby suddenly walked away from Tony, out the door of her lab. "Abby?" he asked, going after her. "What is it? Gibbs said he needs you to do your thing pronto so he could have something to keep this guy on."

"I need to talk to him," Abby said firmly, pressing the elevator button.

"What? Why?"

"Because you have the wrong guy."

Tony blinked, following her into the elevator. "What makes you say that?"

"Just trust me," Abby told him, selecting a floor.

"Okay little miss cryptic," he replied with a sigh.

"What room is he in?"

"Three."

As soon as they got to their floor, Abby bolted from the elevator and down the hall, into to the observation room for interrogation room three, Tony close on her heels. She stopped in front of the glass partition. "Holy shit," she whispered.

"Whoa. Did you just _curse_? You just _cursed_. I don't think I have _ever _heard you curse before," Tony told her, staring at her with eyes wide.

Abby knocked loudly and urgently on the glass and Gibbs, who had been sitting in the chair, arms folded and leaning forward, turned around. His gaze tightening at the interruption, he pursed his lips and got up from his seat, exiting the room. A few moments later he came into the observation room.

"Abby? What's wrong?" Gibbs asked.

"That's not your killer," Abby told him, pointing at Dean through the glass window.

Gibbs stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"That's—." Abby stopped, taking in and letting out a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous. You're not just going to believe me." She closed her eyes for a moment, and then reopened them. "I know him."

"You what?" Gibbs asked, his eyebrows coming together over the bridge of his nose.

"I _know _him. Since I was like…twelve. You can't..." Abby tore her worried eyes away from Gibbs' and went back to Dean. "God this is all my fault." She looked back to Gibbs. "I need to talk to him."

"He's a _murder _suspect—," Gibbs started.

"Gibbs, he's not going to hurt me," she said, as if he idea in itself was preposterous.

"Not my only worry here, Abs. He was at the scene of the crime with gloves on, looking over the bodies," he told her. "He's a _suspect_."

Abby swallowed. "Gibbs, please. If you have ever trusted me on anything…trust me when I say this guy is _not _the one who murdered these people. Just let me talk to him. _Please_, Gibbs. I just need a _few_ minutes with him."

Gibbs looked back to Dean, letting out a breath, and then to Abby, his expression tight. "You've got five minutes."

Abby let out a breath of relief. "Thank you," she said earnestly. She went around Gibbs and over to the interrogation room, opening the door and closing it behind herself.

Dean did a double-take to her. "Crap. Abs…" he sighed.

"God, Dean," she sighed, going over to him and giving him a hug.

"I'd hug you back, but, ah…." Dean motioned to the handcuffs as Abby went over to the other chair. "What the Hell are you doing coming in here?"

"Tony told me that they arrested a guy named Ted Nugent with two fake IDs in his wallet," Abby told him, deadpan.

"Special Agent Tony DiNozzo," Dean said with a grin, leaning back in his chair. "I like him. Funny guy. Not bad for a fed."

"You're lucky I even realized it was you up here in interrogation with Gibbs," Abby continued. "If I hadn't, I would have run your fingerprints already."

"Oh yea, Gibbs seems cool," Dean said with a shrug. "Definitely the boss, right? He screams military. If I had to guess I'd say Marines, but he wouldn't tell me."

Abby glared at him. "That is not what I came in here to chat about. You want to explain to me what you were doing at a crime scene of the double-homicide?"

"With them on the other side of the glass?" Dean asked, nodding to the window behind her. "Not really. I've been read my rights, Abs. Anything I say is fair game, whether or not it has to do with the crime. But you know, Abs, honestly, I was just there cause they had an awesome stereo system. I could hock it for a couple hundred, easy."

Abby didn't ease up on the glare. "Right. Sure. Dean, I'm the one who called you with the tip. It's my fault you—."

"Whoa, hold on," he interrupted. "I'm gonna stop you right there, cause it is not your fault I'm in cuffs. Alright? I know what I do is risky. Yes, you called me, but I took the risk here, not you."

Abby sighed. "Fine. But I want to help, and I can't do that with no info."

Dean sighed, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. He looked over Abby's shoulder at the glass partition anxiously, as if considering the pros and cons of the situation, before nodding. "Okay. Fine. First of all, I didn't kill them. I know that time of death will show that I couldn't have killed them when I was there today, but they're saying I returned to the crime scene, to clean something up or some crap like that. Honestly, the evidence will point to a murder-suicide, because that's what happened." Dean blinked. "Kind of."

"_Sam_?" Abby mouthed, knowing that the security camera couldn't see her face.

"Don't worry," Dean replied with a shake of his head.

Abby nodded in reply. "Do you have any new leads?"

"A few. You know anything that could help?"

"Our M.E. found something in the woman's mouth. Looks to me like sulfur," she said with a cringe. "Again."

Dean's face went slack and he sighed. "Yea, that tracks," he muttered. "Four others so far, two pairs. The ones you called me about and another couple that fell under FBI jurisdiction." Abby closed her eyes briefly in despair. "Yea, I know. Both made to look like murder-suicide. The only reason your boss is looking at this one different is because they caught someone checking out the scene: yours truly. We linked the two murder-suicides together by location, the fact that they were married, and the sulfur thing. I was actually planning on interviewing your dead couple because they knew the second pair of victims pretty well."

"Okay. Did you ask for counsel?" Abby asked.

Dean snorted. "Abs, dead guys don't need counsel."

Abby glared at him again. "Don't give me that. You need _someone_."

"It's not gonna make a difference and you know it," Dean said softly. "I screwed up and I ran into some bad luck. Doesn't matter that I didn't do this. That is not the problem."

Abby stared at him sadly. "You're saying there's nothing I can do," she murmured.

"Yea, that's what I'm saying," he replied quietly. "As soon as they run my prints, the FBI's gonna be all over me. And they're gonna hold on tight. Big time." Dean leaned forward and took Abby's hands in his. "Look. Even if you could help, I don't want you to risk losing your job. Especially over something like this. You chose your life. _This_ is your life now. You can't throw it away because of me."

"But you didn't _do anything_," Abby said, her voice on the verge of a sob. "You didn't do _any _of it. It's not _fair_. You _help _people."

Dean tightened his grip momentarily on her hands. "Hey, Abs, it'll be okay. Don't worry about me."

"If this is involves NCIS now, I can get a look at the other cases," Abby said suddenly. "I can help you prove you didn't do those either."

"That isn't going to work for most of them, because occasionally the bottom line is right," Dean said.

"The bottom line _isn't _right," Abby snapped. "The bottom line is that you save lives and—."

"Hey, maybe work your forensics magic and prove I didn't do this so it doesn't get added to my rap sheet too, okay? Cause this one I didn't do. If I get this one off my record, maybe I can plead guilty and dodge the needle."

Abby finally let out a sob. "Dean, _no_. I can't sit by and—."

"_Not_ your decision, Abs," Dean said, his voice firm. "I told you, I don't want you to ruin your life trying to save mine."

Abby gnashed her teeth together before standing up and leaning forward, smacking Dean upside the head. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"For thinking that you aren't worth helping," Abby told him, sitting back down. "You are practically the most honest_, _loyal and compassionate person I have ever met. On my human being roster, you're right up there with Gibbs."

Dean swallowed, looking uncomfortable at the praise. "Doesn't matter," he said softly. "And you know that."

Abby leaned back, folding her hands in her lap and pausing for a few moments before looking back to him. "How many people would die if you were in prison?" she asked quietly.

"Abs—."

"You know I'm right. What you do—."

"Abigail Rose Scuito, your boss is behind that glass and I will _not _let you say something you're going to regret," he told her, leaning forward. "You might be right, I might save lives, but you do too. You're just as good a person as I am, if not better. The work you do for NCIS saves lives too, and if I'm going down I'll be damned if I bring you down with me."

Abby averted her gaze before nodding. "Okay," she murmured. She looked back to him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Dean sighed. "Tell you what." He paused. "You keep Bert in your lab, right?"

Abby blinked. "Yea."

"You give me a hug, you go give Bert a hug, and you prove I didn't do _these_ murders. Okay?"

Abby gave him a forced half-smile. "Okay."

"Okay. Now come here," he said, motioning to her and standing up. Abby walked over and lifted his arms up over her head so her could give her a hug with his handcuffs on.

Abby held on for a few seconds before pulling away as he lifted his arms back up over her head. She turned and went to the door, stopping with her hand on the doorknob and turning back to him. "I'll track down his cell number and give him a call," she told him. "Explain what's going on."

Dean looked at her blankly for a moment before his expression settled into understanding. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that."

Abby smiled tightly at him before leaving the interrogation room, closing the door behind herself. Tony passed by her as she went into the observation room, giving her a comforting, though definitely confused, smile. "Ah…thanks, Gibbs. For letting me talk to him," she said softly.

"Come here," he said as she turned to leave.

Abby sighed and walked over to him. "Yea?"

Gibbs paused. "He calls you Abs."

Abby raised an eyebrow. "Yea. Always has."

Gibbs pursed his lips. "Do you trust me?"

Abby blinked at him in surprise. "Of course I do, Gibbs, but—."

"_Do you…_trust me?" he repeated, staring at her intently.

She hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. "Yea. Yea, of course I do, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded once. "You said in there that he was as good a man as I am."

Abby swallowed. "And that's not a compliment I give out often," she said.

"You said you called him," he said quietly. "About the other case. And he said there's a third."

Abby winced. "Yea."

"Well aside from the fact that it sounds like he was looking into these crimes more than committing them, I want to know how you know he didn't do it." Abby bit her lip, staring up at him. "Abs, I heard what he said. Now I might be your boss, but no matter what Dean thinks, whatever you tell me I'm not going to think of you any differently," he murmured. "If there's something going on here that I should know about, you've gotta tell me."

Abby glanced back to Dean, who was slouched back in his chair, handcuffed hands in front of him as he softly tapped out a beat to a song in his head. Then she looked back to Gibbs. "The evidence will show that it was a murder-suicide. Because that's what it was. The wife killed her husband, then killed herself because she was possessed."

Gibbs stared at Abby for a few moments. "What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"That's what Dean does," she whispered. "He and his brother. They hunt down evil things…like demons…and they kill them. I called them last week when I saw that there was sulfur found at the scene of that murder-suicide. Because it's a sign of demonic possession. They've been following the trail and Dean got some bad luck and stumbled upon this crime scene and got caught there. Look, Dean was raised into this life. He was raised by his dad, who was a former Marine by the way, and followed in his footsteps as a hunter. As you can see," she said, motioning to Dean, "being in this life can get you into trouble. He's got some stuff on his record, some serious stuff that the FBI's been trying to get him for. He and his brother are actually legally dead, which kept them off the radar and stopped the manhunt, but even if he gets out of this one, if the FBI gets wind of them being alive…they're worse off than ever. I mean Dean actually faked his death before. Coming back to life a second time is gonna piss a lot of people off."

Gibbs gazed into Abby's eyes, as if trying to decipher what was going on from what he saw in them. "And how, exactly, do _you_ know Dean?"

"Well…my dad's side of the family were hunters. My dad didn't go on hunts because he was deaf, but he was still very much in that world. His brother and sister, my aunt and uncle, lived with us for a while. At least it was their home base. As a hunter, you move around a lot. Dean's dad would bring Dean and Sam over to stay with us occasionally when he went on hunts. And actually, when he was like sixteen, Dean and his dad stayed with us when my aunt and uncle were hunting something that had targeted us. It's pretty complicated, but he saved my life. Dean and I kept in touch over the years. When you're a hunter, you take friends where you can get them because anyone who doesn't know what you do, doesn't understand."

Gibbs walked over to stand in front of the window and looked at Dean, letting out a long breath. "I know it's a lot to take in," she whispered. "The whole…monsters are real concept. But I just…I just can't get my mind past the fact that one of the best hunters I know is going to rot in a prison cell. And that's if he doesn't get the death penalty." Abby paused for a moment. "What's your gut tell you?"

Gibbs glanced back to her. "That he didn't do it. Tell you the truth the scene did look like a murder-suicide if you take out Dean being there. Just give me a minute, 'kay Abs?" he asked, walking out of the room. He walked down the hall and Abby watched as he entered the interrogation room.

"Hey. I think Abs was right. I'll take that lawyer now," Dean spoke up. Gibbs sat down across from Dean, staring him down for a few seconds. Dean snorted. "Man, I've been stared down by things scarier than you, let me tell you."

"So I hear," Gibbs replied.

Dean blinked and looked away, sitting back in his chair. "Son of a…. Abby talked to you?"

"She says your old man was a Marine."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the change of subject. "Ah…yea. Corporal. Echo 2-1. FBI'll have plenty of bullshit to say about him, but he was a stand-up guy."

"So. Demonic possession."

Dean huffed out a laugh. "Hey man, the truth hurts. May as well chat about it since someone doesn't know when to keep their mouth shut," Dean said, his voice raising slightly as he looked over Gibbs' shoulder at the window.

Abby smiled.

"Dean, Abby's never lied to me before. She's a good kid. And she wouldn't lie about something like this. Plus, I can tell, she isn't just not lying about it, she believes what she's saying a hundred percent. So truth be told…as much as this stretches past my comfort zone…I'm not sure I'd be okay knowing that I coulda done something to help you out and that people are gonna die cause there's one less hunter out there. Especially if I read in the paper about another murder-suicide."

"That breaks my heart, but you _wishing_ you could help me out isn't gonna help me out," Dean replied.

Gibbs paused. "I'll tell you what. I'll give Abby a few hours to do her thing. She'll go through the evidence at the scene, confirm that the yellow substance found in the wife's mouth was sulfur, all that. If she can make a convincing case for me that this was a murder-suicide, then I don't have anything to hold you on. And if I happen to not know who you are…." Gibbs shrugged. "Not really anyone's fault that we had to let you go. As a matter of fact, there's no reason that anyone has to find out we even had you here."

Dean stared at him for a few moments. "I was right, wasn't I? You're a former Marine."

"Gunnery Sergeant," Gibbs replied. He paused. "So what do you think of my plan?"

"I think it's a damn fine one," Dean told him. "One that I'd be sure not to forget. After Sam and I are finished with this case here, if you ever get anything you can't handle, something up our alley, you can give us a call. I'm sure Abby would anyway, but the same goes for you. You'll have a solid IOU from us."

Suddenly, the door flew open and Abby ran over to Gibbs, grabbing him in a hug, nearly tipping his chair backwards. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said quickly.

Dean grinned at the two of them as Gibbs awkwardly patted Abby on the back in return. "You're welcome. Now you head back to your lab and do your thing."

"Yes sir," she replied with a nod, turning to go back to her lab.

"Don't call me sir," he called after her.

"Yes ma'am," she said with a nod, closing the door behind herself.

Dean snorted. "She always was a character."

Gibbs paused before taking out his cell phone and dialing a number.

"_Yea, Boss_?"

"DiNozzo, I want you, McGee and Ziva to finish the paperwork for the Barnes case we just wrapped up. That's what you'll focus on today. And I want every i dotted and every t crossed. And do me a favor and bring a Caf-Pow down to Abby. Don't bug her though. Leave her alone. She's got a lot to work on."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. "_Uh, Boss_?" Tony asked, confused.

"And hold off on submitting that we arrested Mr. Nugent here, alright?"

Another hesitation. Gibbs could imagine the look on Tony's face. "_Whatever you say, Boss._"

Gibbs hung up the phone, sticking it back in his pocket, and turned back to Dean. "So you knew Abby since she was twelve, huh?"

Dean smiled. "Oh yea, I knew her."

"You happen to know which tattoo of hers was the first?"

Dean leaned forward. "Funny thing about that. That'd be the small pentagram on her shoulder, and interestingly enough I happened to be there when she got it…."

00000

Sam checked his watch for the millionth time, still unable to pay attention to the show he was watching on television. 7:35 PM. Six hours and 23 minutes since Abby called. He looked at his cell phone and then picked it up, pressing the button to light it up. No missed calls. Though it seemed unlikely he had missed a call since he hadn't even left the phone out in the room when he'd used the bathroom.

Just then, the door rattled with the sound of a key and Sam glanced up with a blink, sliding off the bed and standing up, half ready to put his hands on his head in a repeat of Baltimore. But the door opened revealing Dean.

"Finally. What the Hell happened?" Sam exclaimed.

"Nothing bad, obviously, since I'm walking around without cuffs on," Dean replied, closing the door and tossing his keys on the dresser. He put down a plastic bag he'd been carrying as well. "Abby did her thing. Proved I didn't kill them."

Sam stared at the bag. "You stopped for dinner?" he asked tensely, leaving out _while I was wearing a hole in the carpet_ only by sheer willpower.

"I'm starving. Haven't eaten anything since breakfast," Dean replied with narrowed eyes.

"And nobody knows who you are?" Sam asked doubtfully. "Nobody so much as spoke the name Winchester?"

"Nope. As far as they know, they arrested Ted Nugent. But if anything up our alley ever pops up on Gibbs's radar, he's got a solid IOU from us," Dean told him. He shrugged his jacket off and went into the plastic bag, taking out a burger and soda. "Abs requested that I not get myself arrested in Washington DC again though."

"Duly noted," Sam muttered.

**THE END**


End file.
